


worth the drive

by xxcaribbean



Category: One Direction (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Body Dysphoria, Body Image, Bullying, Explicit Language, Fat Shaming, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Liam!Centric, M/M, Sexual Content, Weight Issues, body image issues, possible body dysphoria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1538552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxcaribbean/pseuds/xxcaribbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the thing is, liam should know how to love himself, shouldn’t rely on anyone else to fix him. but it’d be a lie to say that it doesn’t help when someone thinks he’s worthy because at the end of the day, that’s what helps him see it. all he needs is a little reassurance, and the fact that it comes from someone like zayn, well, that leaves liam’s head spinning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	worth the drive

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve been meaning to write about this subject for quite some time, and i felt it was appropriate now more than ever with all the hate liam’s been receiving, especially about his weight. some of what’s in this fic is from personal experience, be it actual events, or certain thoughts. it’s a very such a touchy subject, and i wanted people to understand what it’s like dealing with weight issues.

-

 

Liam’s always had a difficult time loving himself.

It’s not until he meets Zayn that he finds the courage to properly try.

 

-

 

He’s only eleven when he accidentally breaks his toe. The doctor his mother had taken him to was great, real friendly, and fixes him up no problem.

It’s towards the end of the visit that he hears the whisper of _pounds_ and _lose weight_. Those words are not specifically said to him; rather his mother is the one who hears them. However, they’re not for her; no. They’re for him. It’s not hard to see the glances the doctor throws his way, the way his mother’s eyes glaze over and nod along with whatever the professional is saying.

Because that’s what he is, right? _Professional_ and _licensed._ He’s smart, and he knows his stuff, and he knows that Liam is simply _too big_.

Liam goes home with a broken smile on his face.

 

-

 

He’s never been told that he’s _f-a-t_ , not to his face, at least. Maybe that’s a good thing, but there’s a part of him that feels like they _should_ tell him that so it’s easier to feel alone while the kids in school make fun of him.

Liam acts oblivious, but he’s not.

Part of him feels better this way because at least it’s not someone else being picked on. He’d like to think of himself as Superman, or possibly even Batman, taking the troubles away from the citizens to carry the burden so that others won’t have to. It makes sense in his head, and that’s how he gets through his days.

 

-

 

Getting older is no easy feat. It’s full of hormones and changing features, and more importantly, it’s the beginning of hierarchies in school. It’s not like it was easier for him when he was younger, the bullies, and having to defend himself, taking up boxing lessons that only further separated him from his classmates.

Liam makes it through, he does. He has to. He might be failing history, and doing mediocre in math, but it’s time that he focus on making it out of this god-forsaken school with every part of himself in tact.

Which means he’s got be more careful when they shove him into the lockers.

“Too much space, asshole,” one of them snickers.

And Liam nods in agreement because yes, absolutely yes. They’re right, and that’s the way it’s always going to be.

 

-

 

One of the better things about himself, that Liam can certainly admit, is the fact that his family knows he’s gay. It’s never been an issue, and that’s one thing he doesn’t have to worry about.

Although, just because his sexuality is thoroughly defined, it doesn’t stop the questions from other relatives at the dinner table during family holidays.

It’s around the time of year where family meets again; there’s tons of food, and everyone gains a little bit of something along the way.

Liam’s too busy being asked questions on whether he’s dating anyone yet, picked a college, stabbing the turkey and pushing it around his plate to pay any real attention to the fact that his extended family is only making him feel worse.

The answers are always no, and as he nibbles at the food with so much guilt, he feels like maybe he should take a chance and spit it out before he swallows it.

In the end, and like he always does, Liam makes it through.

That guilt still hangs over his head though.

 

-

 

Out of all the experiences in his life, Liam thinks shopping is the worst. There’s a stigma about girls loving to shop, but boys need clothing too, and it’s the worst because if he could avoid it, he would.

It’s not that Liam hates it truly because he doesn’t, but what he does loathe is the way that people stare. He steps into a store (thankful that his sisters are with him sometimes), and it’s like he attracts the attention of everyone in the room, ducking his head to hide the fact that he simply doesn’t belong in places like this, in nice stores with pretty clothing.

None of it fits, is the thing. It never does.

Liam’s never said it out loud, but after after having various amounts of moments where employees have looked him over, he can honestly say that he _has_ felt like apologizing for his existence. The people at school are one thing, but out in the open, in the real world, full of life and diversity, it’s where he feels the most shameful.

There’s a sorry on the tip of his tongue, and he’s pretty sure it’d slip out if the employees were in speaking distance.

 

-

 

Luckily for Liam, art is his homeroom class. It’s the one place he has where he can freely drift off and not worry about other people picking on him. They’re busying with their own projects while he gets to sit in his own corner.

The teacher thinks he’s the best student, but Liam knows that’s only because he’s the most respectful one, and that should give him a reason to be proud. It does, in some ways; the overcompensation he bleeds is important; it helps him feel like he’s worth something despite looking down and noticing the belly he has, or the way his arms are a little thicker than normal, the fact that his thighs touch way too much to be considered healthy.

And he stops his train of thought right there, can’t find it in himself to go further than that because it’s a nasty road, one Liam knows all too well. It’s kept him up at night, cheeks wet from crying and _praying_ for the chance to be like everyone else.

(He’s been praying for a long time, and by now, Liam should know that miracles don’t happen to boys like him. It’d been a long shot anyway).

 

-

 

There are people out there who believe that being overweight is simply a product of laziness and the lack of control when it comes to food. And while that may be the case for some, Liam’s always wondered if that were true for him.

Binging has never been a thing for him, neither has not eating (save for being around groups of people; if they ever catch him eating, they’ll think they know why he’s the way he is), or throwing it all up.

Thing is, Liam’s _tried_ to lose the weight, skipped a few meals here and there (which left him with headaches and stomach pains); he’s tried to drink as much water, fill up with that, exercise (only to ultimately fail time and time again - which makes matter worse because soon enough, along with the words _fat_ and _unworthy_ that float around in his brain, _failure_ becomes a permanent fixture too).

Liam’s a lot of things, but that was one detail he’d hoped to have never added to the vocabulary list he uses to describe himself with.

 

-

 

Liam doesn’t necessarily pine, but he can safely say he’s content. It’s the best thing he can hope for in a situation like this because it’s not often that he finds himself in a median state.

He longs for days like this, though. It’s easier to deal with everything around him when he’s feeling decent. The teasing doesn’t bother him as much, and it’s easier to ignore the distaste that comes out of people’s mouths when they pass him in the hallway.

Good days are more than welcome, until that one thing comes along and pops the invisible bubble of elation.

Liam knows it’s out of the boy’s hands, that it’s not his fault for being who he is. That doesn’t mean Liam likes it when there’s a new kid announced, pulled forward by the art teacher who introduces him to everyone.

“Zayn Malik,” she says in delight.

Everyone gives a welcome, and then things move on- Liam moves on, his attention back on his own project that’s nothing more than random lines and swirls of color he’s sure doesn’t actually mean anything whatsoever but will hopefully convince his teacher otherwise.

And the reason Liam does this is for one very, very specific reason.

He’d noticed Zayn earlier in the office, had passed by there and saw a boy his age sitting down and waiting for something to happen. He hadn’t seen Zayn’s face, not until he’d walked through the classroom door just moments ago. It’d been when Liam’s heart contracted, falling down, down into his stomach, where his soul felt like it’d been lit on fire, and his eyes, they burned with an underlying jealousy.

Someone might mistake Liam for falling in love, but no, that wasn’t the case. Liam knows that Zayn’s probably the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life, and he hates being childish, hates screaming in his head that it’s _not fair_ because it is. Zayn’s genetics have blessed him with something that Liam craves, and while this happens often, Liam knows that his rage is unjustified, unruly too, because at the end of the day, Liam will never be half of what a boy like Zayn could be- _will_ be.

So, he turns his back before he really does cry, tries to ignore the way his throat and chest feel constricted and suffocating all at once.

Liam draws a hole right into the paper, and it’s no surprise that Zayn manages to do the same thing to his heart.

Feeling hollow is one thing, but having someone else come right in and fill that gap, is another thing entirely.

Zayn starts that process by sitting across from Liam.

 

-

 

It’s hard to say how they become friends. Zayn doesn’t talk to Liam the first week despite them being so close to one another in homeroom. At first, Liam thinks it’s obvious; _why_ would someone like Zayn speak to him? It’s easy to see why he’s not anyone’s first choice.

But then there’s a brief moment, a small little thing that happens that must’ve been a sign, or at least an open invitation Zayn took, because the next thing Liam knows, the other boy is leaning over and asking what Liam’s working on.

He falters, doesn’t know how to answer, and he can’t even bring himself to look up at Zayn’s gaze because he knows what he’d find there is far more than what Liam would be able to handle.

“It’s quite good,” the other boy says.

And while Liam should say thank you, he only curls into himself as if what Zayn said was another nasty remark. Those niceties are so foreign to him, and they don't belong anywhere near him either.

Liam does look up eventually when Zayn has sat back down. He's careful to avoid the gaze of the boy across from him, and then he speaks, just loud enough to startle Zayn (having given up on receiving a response from Liam, most likely). "Thanks."

He's not sure, but he thinks Zayn smiles because of it.

 

-

 

Most of the time, Liam sits in homeroom and eats his lunch. It's okay with his teacher, and no one bothers him; it's why he does it.

However, there's an afternoon where it starts out like this- Liam eating his sandwich when a gangly figure stumbles his way into the room.

Liam's startled, eyes wide when he notices who it is.

Zayn smiles sheepishly. "Sorry," he says. He runs a hand through his hair, it styled flat and rather shaggy. "''m gonna finish my project. Like, I'm behind, so I thought I'd try to catch up."

That makes sense, but Liam doesn't understand why Zayn's explaining himself. The room doesn't belong to him; the other lad is allowed to be in here, and Liam finds himself slightly annoyed. Granted, he has no room to be upset about this, but he'd like to think of this as his safe zone. He's come here for so long - that or the library - that it feels odd to share.

Liam doesn't speak to him, but he does shake his head as he goes back to eating, albeit slowly. His body is rigid, and he hopes that maybe Zayn will take some initiative and sit somewhere away from Liam.

He's not that lucky.

Zayn pulls out the chair across from Liam, and part of him feels terrible. It's going to be difficult to finish his food, and Liam, well, that burning sensation is back in his eyes.

"Do you want to see what it is?" Zayn speaks, tentative and unsure of himself.

Liam briefly wonders why he sounds like that. There's no need to; Zayn's got every right to be confident and sure of himself.

There is no answer from Liam. He can't find the words, and Zayn's intimidating to him.

"It's not great, but I kind of like it."

There's no way around not answering. Zayn already probably thinks he's weird as it is, and Liam can't afford for someone else thinking any worse of him than they already do.

He thinks there's going to be some point where Zayn finally realizes just what Liam is. He'd rather that be now so he doesn't have to suffer through the process of Zayn turning on him in the future.

"Okay," he replies.

Zayn opens his sketchbook and slides it over to Liam. At first, Liam doesn't know what it is that he's looking at. But then Zayn's instructing him to turn it, and as soon as Liam does, the picture finally becomes clear.

His mouth is slightly agape, brows twisted in confusion. His fingers smooth over the edge of the sketchbook to hold it up before him, eyes briefly glancing over the edge to find Zayn gnawing on his lip. There's no doubt he's nervous, and Liam knows exactly why.

The drawing, the piece of artwork that Zayn had shown to Liam, is a rough sketch of a figure. Done in pencil, the gray lines loop around in curves, details precise despite the messiness that the drawing utensil left behind.

Liam stares at a picture of himself, body leaning over the table as he concentrates on drawing. He looks mesmerized, like whatever it is that he's sketching is very important.

Wanting to keep a piece of his dignity, Liam doesn't choke on his words like he normal does. He keeps his gaze insightful and well rounded so that he isn't accusing Zayn of anything. He's legitimately curious and wants Zayn to answer him honestly. "Why'd you choose me?" he asks. "I don't-" His shoulders slump, and by the time Liam's set the sketchbook down, his mind has kicked into overdrive.

Knowing that Zayn has drawn him should be a form of flattery, but Liam doesn't take it as such. In the end, Zayn had to have studied Liam in order to find some resemblance in the drawing and real life Liam. This means that Zayn has _properly_ looked at Liam, assessed him, scrutinized him, probably saw everything _wrong_ with him.

This is a joke; it must be.

"Because you're so quiet, and you don't bother other people," Zayn is saying. It sounds awfully close to white noise to Liam, completely unexpected. His brain falters, can’t quite understand what Zayn is _meaning_ to say here. “Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of yours.”

This wasn’t done to make Liam feel guilty, but in a way, he does anyway. Wouldn’t Zayn like to know what Liam’s really thinking, how the perception of himself is so far off that a fraction of himself believes it to be true.

“Nothing important. Believe me.”

Liam’s lunch is completely forgotten, and he sits in silence while Zayn takes back his sketchbook. Neither of them know how to proceed, or rather Liam doesn’t.

Zayn’s the one to fix that, though. “I’d like to think that’s not true.”

The bell rings not even five minutes later. Liam’s saved from a continuing conversation, and Zayn looks a little less burdened.

 

-

 

There’s a pattern that Liam’s learned to memorize. He knows the exact moments when classes let out, what areas to avoid and what hallways to go down so that one of his assailants won’t find him.

So, either Liam’s having an off day, or he’s completely fucked up and forgot because as soon as he makes it down the hall to his locker, they’re there. The jocks that are in every school, that have become cliche in every sense of the word. They’re near his locker, and Liam can’t afford to not have his book. He could certainly turn right around and wait until they’ve all headed off to class, but that would be at his expense, and it’s not like Liam needs a late slip.

The only solution is to get in and get out. If he doesn’t draw attention to himself, everything will be fine.

At least, that’s what he tells himself, takes hesitant steps despite the people pushing past him to get to their own destinations.

Liam makes it in time, changes his book out and thinks that maybe he’ll get away with ease. However, it’s not until the last second, when he’s about to close his locker door and scurry off before those assholes can catch a glimpse at him, that he’s shoved into the locker, nearly knocking his head on the edge of it. Luckily, Liam manages to catch himself, but the fact remains that it still happened.

And then the whispers crawl into his space, and this is exactly what he wanted to avoid. Through his rush of internal insults towards himself - the fact that he’s such an _idiot_ , and that he should just take up _less_ space so he isn’t noticeable - the words sink in so easily. It’s hard to stop his breath from hitching.

“-virgin, maybe. S’not like they’d be able to find his dick anyway.”

At first, those words don’t make sense. What would that possibly have to do with him? And then it clicks, and Liam understands perfectly. His weight makes him bigger; the rolls that grace his side conceal his bones so that they don’t jut out like they’re supposed to. They’re softened by the layer of fat he has, a little more fragile, where the bones are only there if he moves a certain way.

So, in theory they think that more is obscured, that parts of his body are buried and difficult to find. Regardless of anatomy resting in the same places that they have been for hundreds of years, it’s a _joke_ ; it’s meant to be funny.

Although, what’s really hilarious is the fact that Liam’s not laughing.

And neither is Zayn the moment Liam notices the boy down the hall, hands gripped tightly around the strings of his backpack.

Whether he’s heard anything that’d been said, Liam can’t be sure, but that doesn’t stop him from blinking owlishly in surprise, startled and chest tight that Zayn, of all people, had to witness part of his torment.

Liam will make it up to him. He owes Zayn that much.

 

-

 

Sports were something Liam had never been interested in. He played a bit of football when he was younger, but that quickly faded as he got older and the teasing grew. His mother didn't know why he asked to quit, and to be fair, she doesn't know half the issues he faces now either. It's better that way, but Liam just thinks it's weird how people think he's not capable of doing anything at all.

His size might be an obstacle when it comes to relationships (Liam’s pretty sure he'll have to kill himself losing all the weight before someone finds him good enough), but he's perfectly functional. He walks to school, walks _around_ the school, walks home, runs errands.

And okay, he might get a little out of breath going up three flights of stairs and look like an idiot trying to conceal that, but he's mobile. He eats normal meals his mother makes, and he restricts himself from sweets with guilt stapled to his brain.

Although, while Liam can enjoy life like that, he's been denied things simply because he doesn’t fit that picture of what he’s supposed to look like. One day, he chants to himself sometimes. One day it’ll happen, and he’ll finally find a place amongst millions of other people who were born the way he’s wished his entire life.

 

-

 

Zayn, for all intents and purposes, doesn’t ask Liam about that day. Whether he actually heard what was said, Liam doesn’t know, and it’s not like he’s going to bring it up himself. He lives with the hand he’s been given in life, and that’s the way it is.

That particular comment rings in his head though, and for the first time since Zayn joined their school, Liam pays him some attention. As they’re in class, busy on their projects, Liam sneaks careful glances at Zayn. He tries his best not to get caught, doesn’t want Zayn thinking something’s up. But it’s only fair, really. Zayn had looked at him to sketch his artwork, and now Liam feels a little entitled to do the same.

The little devil on his shoulder tells him he shouldn’t, that Liam’s gaze upon Zayn is disrespectful and somewhat of a tragedy.

Zayn sits there, so deeply concentrated on his work, that Liam loses himself in that. The fringe of black hair rests across Zayn’s forehead, long and completely without product. His shirt is a little lose, the collar falling open just enough that Liam can make out a tattoo across his collarbone. He can’t read it, and he wonders what it says, but that’s something Liam won’t do; it’s simply none of his business.

The other boy wears a total of two necklaces, long and dangling because of the angle that Zayn holds himself in. One arm is at rest, laying against the table while he holds the paper in front of him still. The other is concentrated and precise with the pencil, and all Liam can see is the outlines of his hands, the knuckles white, and how it’s so easy to see the simple structure underneath skin. Liam’s never been good at science, has never understood the appreciation for the human body, but it makes sense why some have studied it’s infrastructure, the way it’s designed and how it moves.

Zayn’s a boy, yes, but there’s a delicateness about him that Liam wishes he had. Liam is round and loud, curves and flesh, and Zayn is sharp and demanding, the jut of his cheekbones scream quality and beauty, and before Liam knows it, he’s found a hand on his own cheek.

He quickly masks the subconscious touch by resting his chin in the palm of his hand, but his fingers dig, dig, _dig_ , into flesh. He knows that even if he were to suck in his cheeks, they’d still retain an image he’s always hated but partially reveal what’s hiden underneath.

Liam becomes aware of the fact that he’s wandered off within his thoughts when a light touch startles him. He quickly drops his hand, gaze going straight down to his other wrist, only to find fingers curled subtly around it.

“Are you okay?” Zayn whispers.

Liam, for the first time, actually looks up at Zayn, stares straight into his doe eyes, and promptly internally panics. “I’m fine,” he says quickly, pulling his wrist out of Zayn’s grasp.

The other boy is a little startled, looks odd because of Liam’s reaction.

But the thing is, Zayn _shouldn’t_ touch Liam, at all. Liam doesn’t deserve that privilege.

 

-

 

There was a time when he had friends. Back when he was younger, and the world didn’t revolve around how much the family could afford via designer labels and being the cool kid. In fact, Liam was even friends with his next door neighbor, Louis, who was positively a ray of sunshine. He’d been feisty and loud, and Liam remembers the excitement of wanting to be _just_ like him.

Unfortunately, Louis moved away at one point, and while Liam still keeps in contact, it’s not often enough that Liam thinks they’re real friends. He’s a past acquaintance, and maybe that’s doing a disservice to Louis given he went out of his way to make Liam feel included.

Sometimes Liam wishes he’d stuck around, though. Louis would have the school in the palm of his hand, and Liam, well, he might be in the same position he’s in now, but at least he’d know that there’d be one person on his side.

 

-

 

They have these things called pep rallies at the school. It’s where everyone gathers to get pumped up for the school’s game. It’s pointless, Liam thinks, because half the school doesn’t even show up for the damn game; it’s mostly pride that keeps them doing this.

Everyone usually fits on the bleachers, and it’s the most stressful thing for Liam because if he can find a good seat at the top (so his back is against the wall of the gymnasium), or near the railing, he won’t feel like he’s in the way, or block people’s view. The anxiety always creeps up on him in times like this. Having people squished together and sitting behind him makes him clammy and paranoid.

This time around, though, Liam doesn’t know whether to be grateful or not that somehow, someway, Zayn manages to push aside several people and climb into the spot right next to Liam.

“These are supposed to be fun, right?” he asks over the crowd. It’s hard to hear with so many people in the room, all chatting before the rally begins.

Liam only gives Zayn a side-glance, truly curious if he’s ever been to one of these things. Usually it’s just rambunctious noise that results in a headache that takes hours to get rid of. “Depends,” he answers.

Zayn looks curious more than he does excited, and that’s probably the best part about the whole event. While everyone tries to make it through, Zayn sits beside Liam and makes rather impromptu, sarcastic comments about some of the players and the shit they’re forced to watch below them on the floor of the gym.

“-wouldn’t be able to find his ass if it wasn’t attached, I swear. Might be able to throw throw a ball, but he can’t catch one for shit.”

And Zayn’s point is made, when one of the players (the one who’d been involved with the locker incident just a few days prior; coincidence, Liam isn’t sure) misses, fumbling the damn thing before eventually falling to the crowd.

There’s a distinct difference in the crowd, some take pity and some actually laugh, and Liam _should_ be ashamed that he’s included in the latter, but he’s not. Liam’s not sure if he’s ever believed in karma, but this is what it feels like, and he hadn’t had to be malicious in return.

Eventually, he covers his mouth with the back of his hand, stifling the noise he’s making, even if it blends in with everyone else around him. He does it out of habit, having learned long ago that laughing out loud is an easy way to become a target, so it’s easy and better to do it in silence.

When he’s calmed down, he feels a brush against his arm, and Liam straightens up. Having forgotten that Zayn was sitting next to him, he turns to find Zayn looking at him odly. Those big, almond eyes sparkle, and there’s a genuine smile that graces his features.

Liam doesn’t understand why it’s directed at _him_. “What?” he asks, just in case there’s something wrong. He goes back over what he might’ve done within the past five minutes, but nothing major sticks until Zayn’s shaking his head, leaning over just a bit more into Liam’s personal space so he can speak without having to shout.

“What if I invited you over this Saturday?” Zayn asks. The corner of his mouth drops just a fraction, and that probably has to do with the fact that he doesn’t know what Liam’s answer will be. “Would you be cool with that?”

Liam furrows his brows in confusion. “Why?”

Zayn could shrug and call it off, tell Liam to forget it, and that it’s not a big deal, but he doesn’t do that. He looks earnest, and if that doesn’t make Liam feel something, he’s not sure what else would. “Because I’d like to believe we’re friends,” the other boy replies. “And I could say that my sister’s having a pool party for her birthday, and like, I’d rather not get stuck with a bunch of girls.”

To deny Zayn this wouldn’t necessarily be rude, but it does pose an issue for Liam. Would Zayn expect him to swim? Since when did he consider them friends even though they spend several classes together, including lunch when they both hide away in homeroom? Liam still keeps to himself, and Zayn doesn’t push, but it’s gotten to the point where their conversations are more than two sentences. It’s been nice, and Liam’s still waiting for the ball to drop, for Zayn to point and laugh and tell him he’s only joking around with Liam.

Liam could say no. He’s got a lot of reasons to do so, and he knows his parent’s wouldn’t mind, would probably be more thrilled than him about the prospect of him having a friend; so, Liam smiles shyly and tells say, “Okay.”

The beauty that Zayn radiates when he gives Liam a full blown smile, is nothing Liam has ever seen before. It makes him wonder how someone like Zayn even possibly exists.

 

-

 

Liam meets Zayn’s mother, and she’s probably the nicest person he’s ever met - aside from Zayn, and his own parents, of course. Trisha tells him Zayn’s already in the back with the girls, leading him throughout the house until they get to the backyard.

During that short time frame, Liam takes in what he can, finds family pictures all along the walls, various paintings and artworks hanging up too. The rooms are mostly white, but it feels loved and lived in, and Liam’s vaguely aware how lucky he is that Zayn’s letting him see this.

When they get to the french doors at the back of the house, Trisha leaves Liam on his own because he can see Zayn through the window. He’s sitting on the edge of the pool, feet in the water, but other than that, it doesn’t look like he’s been swimming.

The anxiety coming here had been terrible; the fact that he’s in _Zayn’s house_ is doing a number on him, but just seeing Zayn out there with his swim trunks on and no shirt is even more of situation that has him panicking.

The squealing of a couple of girls snaps Liam out of his thoughts, and he pushes open the door without a second thought. He knows he’d turn right around if he stood there any longer, and Zayn’s given him this invitation because there’s a part of him that actually likes Liam, that considers him a friend. Maybe Liam’s desperate, possibly; he wouldn’t put it past himself, but this means more than anyone could ever know (and even if there’s the possibility that it could very well be one big joke, Liam will take this for what it’s worth: as a _good_ memory).

“Liam!” Zayn smiles as soon as he approaches.

He gives one back, takes a seat next to Zayn while avoiding putting his feet into the water too. He decided to wear his swim trunks, just in case, and although he thinks that everyone else can’t see what he does, he smoothes them out as soon as his legs are crossed. They fall down to his knees, and it’s better that way, same with the t-shirt on his back.

“Hi,” he says.

“‘m glad you’re here, _Leeyum_ ,” Zayn replies. He looks over at him, and the sincerity is something Liam hopes he gets to witness more often. It’s truth without a hint of maliciousness; it’s something he’s desired for so long now.

While Liam has every intention of replying to Zayn, there's a shriek of the boy's name, a girl who looks awfully familiar to Liam.

"Watch me, Zayn," she says, standing at the edge or the pool. There's a few other girls standing behind her waiting for their turn to jump too.

Zayn listens, although he says, "Be careful, Veronica. Watch how you jump."

Siblings, Liam recognizes.

The girl jumps, and as soon as she resurfaces, Zayn's applauding.

"She looks just like you," Liam murmurs.

Zayn snorts. "Don't I know it. Let's just hope she doesn't turn out like me, though. Pretty sure that'd be a tragedy."

Liam doesn't know what to say to that given the fact that he believes nothing is wrong with Zayn. He gets excellent marks in school; he's crazy talented, far better than Liam. And his looks; Liam knows that should be a rather insignificant part of a person because it doesn't mean they're all around good, but Zayn is. He's a lot of things Liam isn't, and that matters.

"Do you want to swim?" Liam blinks and finds Veronica in the water in front of them. "Zayn's a baby and won't get in, but he shouldn't have to ruin your fun."

Liam's amused, turns to Zayn and silently asks him what this is about with raised eyebrows. He forgets the feeling of inadequacy, the fact that he’d have to turn down Veronica if she were to persist.

"Veronica, shut up." Zayn kicks his foot to splash his sister with water. She sputters and throws water back at him. "Go play with your friends. It's why they're over."

"Is Liam your friend?"

Now, this can be interpreted in so many ways. Veronica looks a little wicked with the grin she's got going, and Zayn's practically blushing. But Liam doesn't know what it means when Zayn stays silent for so long. To him, it's a simple yes or no question, and the fact that Zayn could be hesitating makes something in Liam's stomach curl.

"Yeah," Zayn answers, splashing his sister again, who eventually swims away.

Liam doesn't know if he should ask, so he doesn't until Zayn's turning to him, "Sorry."

Liam gives nothing more than a shrug in return until Zayn's shaking his head. "She's nosy, yeah? And smart and out to make my life a living hell when she starts dating."  Zayn kicks his feet again, softly though, so that he just stirs up the water instead of splashing it. “Can I tell you something though?”

“Anything,” Liam responds. The importance of Zayn’s words may not be as such, but he’s willing to talk to Liam, and that’s more than enough for him.

“You can’t laugh. It’s stupid, so don’t.”

Liam shakes his head, possibly a little too serious than he ought to. “Never.”

Zayn leans over, closer to Liam like he’d done in the gymnasium two days prior. His skin glistens in the sun, and if Liam felt comfortable enough, he’d probably tell Zayn that he reminded him of the sun. Zayn’s eyelashes flutter against the high, high point of his face, dark as night but illuminating those hazel eyes all the while Liam just stares as he waits for Zayn to continue. “I can’t swim,” he says. The rise and fall of his chest seem to indicate that he’s breathing a little heavier, probably nervous from spitting out such a truth.

But Liam doesn’t think of him differently, if that’s what Zayn thinks he’s going to do. Just because he can’t do something that a lot of people can, doesn’t diminish the brightness that Zayn encompasses.

Liam’s not sure how he should respond, but what he does do is wrap an arm around his body, pressing the length of it against his stomach where he feels the weight, the very thing that had kept him from wanting to come here in the first place.

It doesn’t seem like a big deal, after all. Not now, at least. If Zayn has his downfalls, then surely Liam’s allowed to have this too, right? Swimming and weight are two very separate entities, but for the first time in a long time, Liam doesn’t feel bad. He’d like to say he feels normal.

“Would you want to learn?”

Zayn makes a funny face, and Liam thinks that might’ve been the wrong thing to say. However, Zayn reaches down into the water, cups his hand around the liquid and lets it fall right through his fingers. “Are you offering to teach me?”

Liam falters, doesn’t know if he’d be any good at trying to get Zayn to stay afloat. Obviously he’d been in the pool right there with him, but the thought of Zayn freaking out because of a failure in Liam’s ability to instruct is a little off putting. Although, Zayn looks like he’s up for it, looks like he wants to beg Liam for this opportunity, and if there’s one thing Liam’s going to try very hard not to fuck up, it’s going to be Zayn. He’s a gem amidst the rocks that Liam lives with.

When they slip into the water, in the shallow end so that Zayn has a semblance of feeling okay, Liam feels like he’s got a huge responsibility on his shoulders. Zayn putting his trust in Liam, and Liam fully believing that he’s the most precious thing he’s been around, it puts things into a different perspective for him.

If someone were to give Liam the chance, there’s no doubt he’d take it, use it to his advantage and go out of his way to prove his worth. Liam may not feel good enough half the time, but Zayn, at least, makes him want to try.

 

-

 

Liam doesn’t ever forget the time he was questioned by a seven year old girl (his parent’s friend’s cousin, he thinks) who had asked him, “Why are your legs so big?”

He’d only been wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt at the time, but that line of wonder still haunts him to this day. He also tends to ask himself the same question when he gets dressed or undressed.

He never has a concrete answer.

(That doesn’t mean he doesn’t try to search for one, though. Usually, the answer lies between the fact that he’s _different_ and not like everyone else, and that’s never been a _good_ thing).

 

-

 

Liam and Zayn.

Zayn and Liam.

They kind of become a thing.

Not a _thing_ as in dating, but a thing that people whisper about in school sometimes. Zayn’s in the habit of ignoring everyone about it though, doesn’t care what people think about him. He’s mostly bubbly and pretty confident despite his quiet demeanor.

In fact, Liam’s notice that he’s the only one that Zayn really talks to. It’s not like Zayn couldn’t make friends with other people, but sticking by Liam’s side is his favorite position.

However, that doesn’t mean the bullying stops for Liam. The thing is, Zayn (if he’s around at the time) will stand up for Liam, not afraid to make smartass remarks that usually almost gets him a punch in the face. And then he usually offers the chance for Liam to talk about it afterwards, but Liam never takes him up on it.

Mostly Liam lies, and he says he’s okay. He’s been dealing with this far longer than Zayn’s been around, and just because he’s got a friend now, that doesn’t mean things have to change necessarily. Maybe it’s unfair though, to keep Zayn out of the dark when he looks so concerned for his wellbeing. It’s nice to have someone care beside his parents, but Liam refuses to make things about himself.

He’s never purposefully been selfish, and he’s not about to start now.

 

-

 

When Liam usually stays at Zayn’s house, Zayn usually tells him that his mother likes Liam so much, that she cooks dinner with him in mind, and that she goes out of her way to clean.

“She really likes you, Liam,” Zayn replies whenever Liam asks why. It’s difficult to understand, but he guesses it’s nice to have some form of approval.

He also doesn’t tell Zayn that it’s because Trisha confided in him once, when he offered to wash the dishes.

“Zayn’s always had trouble with school,” she told him, scrubbing the plate before putting it in the dishwasher. “He had a few friends back home, but they weren’t very kind.”

Liam didn’t believe her in those few minutes. He didn’t tell her that though because he’d been too busy trying to correct the mistakes of those who never appreciated Zayn for who he was. “That’s- Zayn’s _amazing_ ,” he’d said, and he’d blushed because maybe being a little too eager and generous around his best friend’s mother is weird.

Trisha had only smiled and replied with, “I know. I’m biased, but I’m just glad someone else sees it too.”

 

-

 

As weird as it is to call himself a flower, it’s the best description Liam has for himself. He grows day by day, a little at a time. It’s not so hard walking down the halls of school when he knows he’s going to see a bright face to help him make it through the day.

It doesn’t solve all of his problems, no, but Liam stops asking Zayn why he continues with his quest to perfect drawing Liam. Out of everything in the world, Zayn chose Liam before he even really knew him, and that sits in a special place in Liam’s heart.

He’s special to someone. That’s an incredible feeling.

 

-

 

Liam’s never been to a school dance. He’s never been important enough to be asked out, and instead, he usually makes the evening out of spending it with his sisters.

But there are flyers all across the school, and one taped to Liam’s locker that he has to pull off in order to access the combination lock. This might not be Liam’s kind of thing, but he wants to know Zayn’s thoughts on it. Not like Liam believes they’d go together - friends or otherwise - but Zayn’s opinions always matter to Liam. Somehow, he always gives sound advice.

“Wouldn’t bother coming, Liam,” someone shouts suddenly. “Looks like your crush has found someone better!”

He frowns in distaste, heart clenching in his chest because there’s no way he’d been obvious with his liking Zayn. Sure, he may pine and think he’s the most wonderful person ever, but Liam is careful, doesn’t let Zayn touch him in anyway possible (makes sure to keep a good distance); he doesn’t over indulge himself in their conversations and makes sure that Zayn speaks plenty for the both of them.

So, to the best of his ability, Liam tries to shrug it off. He doesn’t pay attention to those words until it’s time for lunch, and even though Liam spends it in the classroom rather than the cafeteria, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t pass by the doors that lead into the room full of people.

He spots Zayn talking to a pretty brunette, and he doesn’t join Liam for lunch that day.

Liam tries not to feel upset about it; Zayn needs a larger circle of friends (or girlfriends); he’s the kind of boy that may not need attention, but he certainly receives it. Liam’s tried to give him enough, but just like he is already, it won’t ever be enough.

 

-

 

There’s not much to tell, and usually Liam keeps things from his family. His sisters wonder what he’s up to, how he’s doing, and they care, they do, but he’s never had the heart to tell them why he doesn’t date. Why he _can’t_ date.

His sisters are beautiful, and he’ll be the first to speak up for them or knock a guy out for hurting any one of them, but Liam’s not like them, and he figures it’s going to take a special kind of someone to actually admit to liking Liam.

He’d been asked once.

It should’ve been a feat, but it wasn’t. It’d been a joke, and Liam’s always grateful that he’d heard the whispers before it actually happened. It wasn’t like he would’ve said yes, the feeling of inadequacy already buried beneath his skin that made everything complicated.

But watching as another boy approached him, who seemed nice and respectful, and had asked Liam out on a date- only for Liam to positively know that what was behind this act of kindness was only ill will- that tore a part of his soul in half.

He’d said no in order to retain an inch of his dignity, and while that boy had persisted and eventually gave up, that didn’t stop the snears of, “Good; why the fuck would I wanna date you anyway?”

And Liam walked away, leaving his back open for more wounds to sever his already abraded self esteem.

“You know, for someone who’s _fat_ , you’re choosey. To be honest, you’ve no room to be.”

He would’ve closed his eyes as a way to escape the harsh taunts, but to see where he was going required him to keep his head held up high, the tears welling but kept at bay.

“Might as well take what you can get, Liam. You’ll always be unlovable.”

 

-

 

Zayn tells Liam two days later who he asked to the dance. Liam doesn’t remember her name, but he does know of her, has seen her in the halls with her curly brunette hair, and it makes sense. It makes absolute sense why Zayn would ask her because they’re truly the perfect pair. Aesthetically they work well, and Liam’s pretty sure if he got to know the girl, she’d be just as lovely as Zayn.

All in all, it works, and Liam’s as happy as can be.

“You’re coming too, right?” Zayn asks.

School is almost over with, and Liam just wants to go home.

“Like, it should be fun, and we’ll have a great time.”

As happy as Zayn looks about this, Liam wonders how he can let him down gently, that no, this isn’t something he’ll be going to. Liam’s not in the habit of being the third wheel, and even if he were to suggest that, Zayn would probably go out of his way to ensure Liam had someone to go with.

But Liam doesn’t want that, doesn’t want the pity and the guilt Zayn would feel. It’s easier to let it all go and promise that he’s just fine. The dance won’t matter in twenty years time, so there’s no real point in worrying over it now either.

“-don’t think I’ll wear a tux, just something nice. That might work, right?”

Liam nods along as he works on schoolwork. They don’t spend the entire time on the subject of the school dance, but by the time the bell rings for school to let out, Zayn does ask Liam if he’ll be coming. There are other days in which he could ask, sure, but Liam supposes he just wants an answer.

Thing is, as easy as it would be to say no (although difficult afterwards once Zayn pouts; that’s become a thing Liam really didn’t need to know about; it’s too adorable for Zayn’s own good), Liam says, “Yes.”

Liam’s lied to Zayn plenty of times for the sake of saving face and never out of intentionally wanting to hurt him.

This time, though, is different because Liam will break his promise.

In two weeks, on a Friday night, Liam sits at home with his sisters and checks the time on his watch. The hours fade, and Liam makes himself comfortable on the couch knowing that Zayn’s had a good time without him.

It never crosses his mind that Zayn might actually be upset with him later on.

 

-

 

The following week, things are dim, and in the back of Liam’s mind he knows he’s done wrong. There’s also several opportunities for him to actually tell Zayn that he’s sorry, but he doesn’t. It doesn’t seem like it’d be a thing that would help in the long run, and Zayn looks too bothered to speak anyway.

By the time school is let out that day, Liam’s on his way home when Zayn catches up with him. It comes as a surprise to Liam, but Zayn blocks him from attempting to walk. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing?” Liam says, curiously.

“Bullshit, Liam. C’mon.” Zayn looks defiant, arms crossed and his backpack hanging off his shoulder. It’s hard for him to look intimidating, if at all, but Liam knows he’s serious.

“Really, Zayn.”

“Then where were you?” he asks. There doesn’t need to be specific context; they both know what Zayn’s talking about.

Liam shrugs and looks anywhere but at Zayn. “At home. Some stuff came up, sorry.” His voice comes out like a whisper, timid and small, and it’s not like he means to make Zayn feel bad for using an accusatory kind of tone, but Liam doesn’t like the fact that the magnifying glass is on him.

“You said you’d come, though.” Kicking his foot out, Zayn’s heel scuffs against the concrete.

“Would’ve been pointless,” Liam murmurs.

Zayn hears it, looks sharply at Liam only to shake his head. “What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

Not wanting to fight, Liam relaxes his posture so he doesn’t look so defensive. “I would’ve been the third wheel, Zayn, and I didn’t want to get in the way of that.” There’s a whole bunch of other excuses on the tip of his tongue, but those will never be muttered. _You would’ve ignored me the entire time_ , or _I doubt I would’ve been able to find a nice-fitting tux_.

But the thing is, Zayn looks startled, tilting his head just a bit before going in with, “You didn’t ask anyone?”

Liam clenches his jaw, fist tightening around the strap of his own backpack. At this point, he wants to stomp like a frustrated child, angrily spill his secrets out just for Zayn to understand. Surely Zayn _sees_ the answer to that question. People have always made it obvious how they’ve felt about Liam, and for Zayn to think Liam wouldn’t have an issue is absurd and quite frankly, offensive.

People like Zayn- pretty and _slender_ , svelte in every goddamn sense of the word don’t have to recoil at words like _lazy_ and _unhealthy_ , or _stupid_ and _unworthy_. He has a kind of freedom in a crowd that Liam has never had.

So, why would anyone be kind to him now?

Liam forgoes answering in favor of shoving past Zayn and ending the conversation right then and there.

Zayn, however, doesn’t make it that simple. “ _Liam_ ,” he calls, grabbing his shirt sleeve before he can slip out of his sight.

“I didn’t go because you deserved it, Zayn,” Liam admits, scrambling for words as he turns halfway around. He won’t face Zayn again, not entirely, and this is all he’s willing to offer. “You deserved a night alone... without me.” He doesn’t tack on the extra _without me dragging you down_.

Because they’re all like fishes in the sea here at school. Liam’ll pull him down faster than he really has the chance to swim. So, while it might’ve not been fair for Liam to bail, he just gave Zayn a running start on ending the school year with a big bang.

They’ve only got a couple of months left anyway. Liam’s only giving Zayn a way out.

 

-

 

They’re in a weird place at the moment, and Liam hates it. He’s too afraid to say anything about it given the fact that he probably ruined the one good thing he had.

It’s not to say that he hasn’t caught Zayn staring at him though, those hazel eyes full of longing and wishing for something Liam can’t quite pinpoint.

It’s a mess, and Liam’s life kind of spirals back downwards again once people realize that something’s going on. They’re always paying attention, the monsters that they are.

It gives them the perfect chance to rattle Liam all over again.

 

-

 

One might argue that it’s Liam’s fault for denying himself life’s simplest pleasures, like ice cream. Liam knows how easy it is to pick up the spoon and take a bite, but it’s the thoughts that come afterwards that pick him apart from the inside out.

Eating is never easy. It’s a requirement in order to get through life. People don’t need alcohol or cigarettes to live, but people need food, and that’s always a struggle when others think they can dictate diets.

Sometimes Liam feels like people stare at him when he’s in restaurants, their beady eyes sending him subliminal messages that tell him he shouldn’t be eating that hamburger; the salad is considered food, and it’s _nutritious._

Although, even when he does that, they still look because _ha! Look at the fat guy trying to be healthy._

It’s a lose-lose situation. Liam often feels like an unravelled yo-yo swinging back and forth.

 

-

 

The weekend rolls around, and school is coming towards its end. College will begin soon, and Liam’s not entirely prepared. He knows that some kids from his school will not be attending, and that’s only a good thing because Liam won’t have to deal with them any more. It also means moving on without any friends.

Liam would still consider Zayn a friend if they were still talking.

It’s been nearly two weeks.

 

-

 

Sleeping in is great. The house is a safe-zone because family actually enjoys his presence, and Liam doesn’t have to bother with the world outside.

Of course, the things that do get to him are the ads on tv ( _take this pill and lose weight_ , they say), or the jokes on every single tv show to ever exist ( _because fat people are funny_ , they say). He can’t escape; like a rat in a maze, Liam feels like he’s fighting for a way out.

He’s content, so maybe that’s enough. His life could be much, much worse, and there’s no real reason to complain.

Liam pretends it’s all okay.

 

-

 

There’s a knock on the door at three o’clock in the afternoon. Liam knows only one of his sisters is home, the rest of his family having gone out to who knows where. There’s no way he’d be expecting anyone, but he’s polite and decides to answer it.

As the door swings open, Liam greets whoever is on the other side until their face comes into view. From there, the smile on Liam’s face drops, and he stands there awkwardly, just as Zayn does because it quickly becomes apparent than neither of them know what to say.

“What are you doing here?” Liam clears his throat, speaking softly. He’d been harsh the last time they’d been near one another, and now’s not the time to scare Zayn off if he’s here for a reason.

Zayn shrugs and then sighs, shakes his head, and rubs the back of his neck like he can’t figure out where to start. It’s not until he gathers the courage to look Liam in the eye that all barriers come crashing down, and all that’s left is a Zayn who looks lost, misplaced, and completely out of his element.

“C’mere,” Liam says next, urging Zayn to move forward.

And the smaller boy looks relieved. His shoulders slump, and he takes the next few steps to get closer to Liam.

Zayn snakes his arms around Liam very carefully, burying his face into his shoulder, and while Liam offered the hug in the first place, he’s so hesitant about accepting it. It takes him a moment longer to relax, curling his arms around Zayn’s body, and even then, he feels out of place.

This is the most he’s ever let anyone touch him in a long time - save for his family - and there’s a gut-wrenching fear that Zayn can _feel_ Liam’s body pressed up against his. Of course, even if Liam was thinner, Zayn would still be against him like this, but Liam’s lumpy and far from flat, and this only gives Zayn a free pass to how Liam looks. He can hide behind clothes and sit in more flattering positions, but there is no escaping the truth.

Zayn doesn’t comment, however. Not like Liam expected him to, at least. Maybe he should’ve given Zayn the benefit of the doubt, that he wouldn’t curl away from Liam the moment he touched him, but as of this moment, all he feels is safe and warm.

And happy.

Liam feels happiness curl into his heart, and he’s missed this- missed Zayn, and that says a lot, doesn’t it?

“I thought about you said the other day,” Zayn says as he draws away from Liam. He still remains close, just inches apart because it seems like Zayn has no intention of letting Liam run back into the house (not that Liam had that on his mind, but obviously Zayn knows Liam very well if he’s assuming that’s something that might've happened). “About what I asked too- Liam,” he licks his lips, manages to catch Liam off guard with the way he’s looking at him, something Liam isn’t sure of. “ _Leeyum_ , I want to take you out. On a date.

All at once, Liam’s brain freezes, those words repeating over and over again in his head. Maybe he hadn’t heard right, or this is a dream. Zayn can’t be serious. Liam? Of all people.

“I thought you had um, you know, that one girl,” Liam gestures awkwardly. He still doesn’t remember her name, and he should feel bad about that, but he doesn't.

Zayn takes the bottom of his sweater in his hands, fumbling with it while he gives an explanation. “Dunno, thought that’s what I was supposed to do or something.” Out of all the looks Zayn has expressed, the look of remorse does not suit his features. “She wasn’t you,” he explains. “I don’t really like it much when you’re not around.”

Now, at this moment, Liam’s still not quite sure he’s heard all of this right. There’s a part of him that feels like pressing the back of his hand against Zayn’s forehead to check his temperature, see if he’s feeling okay. And it’d honestly be a lie to say that Liam hasn’t thought about a moment like this because a deep part of him _really_ likes Zayn, has liked him since the moment he walked into class on his first day, but another doesn’t feel ready. He hadn’t thought about what would happen if Zayn ever returned those same sentiments given that it’d always been a long shot. How to react is something he doesn’t know how to do; everything completely escapes him except for the myriad of questions that fall through the blockage, all consisting of _why me?_ and _are you sure?_

Liam’s torn because Zayn came back, yes, but he’s gone a little further to a place Liam never expected to ever happen, and now that he’s here, what does he do? Push Zayn away because he’s scared, or keep Zayn close because that’s the only way he could ever have him in his life?

If it’s the former, neither of them will be happy, and if it’s the latter, Liam’s not sure _he_ can make Zayn happy. That’s a weight upon his shoulders - not a burden, never that - but it’s _new_ , and for the first time, _Liam_ has the choice.

 _He has a choice_.

Something he’s never been given before.

“If you don’t- if you’re not- _Liam_ ,” Zayn stutters his way through an impartial sentence, takes a step back before Liam’s reaching out for him.

Liam takes Zayn’s hand, and while he firmly thinks he’s not good enough for this - to be going out with someone like Zayn (with pretty features, and a kind heart), he doesn’t want to ruin this, not yet. He wants a taste of Zayn before the other boy figures that Liam isn’t all he’s cracked up to be.

(After all, being friends is one thing. There’s only a certain level of closeness that is shared, and testing out the waters to see if a relationship will actually work, it involves something much deeper).

“Do you want to come inside?” he asks, gesturing behind him. “We could, um, watch something.”

Zayn squeezes Liam’s hand and tells him to lead the way.

They spend the next couple of hours on the couch, marathoning their favorite movies, Zayn curled up around Liam for a good duration of their time. And it’s nice; Liam is able to relax and wrap an arm around Zayn’s waist; it’s completely different between the two of them, but Liam wouldn’t want it any other way.

(He’s also grateful to Ruth, who comes down from upstairs at one point, raising her eyebrow at Liam [who only tightens his hold on Zayn], when she simply gives him a nod, like she’s blithe over Liam’s choice).

 

-

 

Liam’s gone nearly twenty years without a kiss, and he’s sure that even if he had one before then, nothing would ever compare to the moment that Zayn surprised him with their own.

Raining, Liam remembers, after school and on break before the start of college. He’d had to walk home, soaked to the bone with Zayn right by his side. There were puddles all along the sidewalk, and although they were dirty and the two of them already soaked, Zayn made a habit of jumping in them anyway.

His hair was plastered to his forehead, to the side of his head too, raindrops dripping from his long eyelashes, and even in the midst of rain, Zayn still shined so brightly. His tongue would press behind his teeth as he smiled, so very happy, and Liam trailed behind him until Zayn got bored enough to stand by his boyfriend’s side again.

“Mum’s making dinner, if you want to stay,” Liam murmurs, cautiously taking Zayn’s hand in his own. Sometimes he can’t believe he still gets to do that, that Zayn allows him to.

(Liam had been hesitant in school, afraid to show them off, and Zayn had understood completely after Liam had found the courage to _talk_ to Zayn. He’d feared that people would pick on Zayn, and he’d do anything to avoid it.

That didn’t stop Zayn from taking his hand in the middle of the hallway just to prove to Liam that he didn’t care).

“Oh, really?” Zayn glanced up at Liam (mostly because he’s an inch or two taller). “Is that okay?”

Liam bit back a smile at Zayn being considerate. He’s never overstayed his welcome before and, “Mum likes you, Zayn. Of course she’ll want you to stay.”

Maybe it’d been instinct, or just that very moment, but Zayn stopped walking, which caused Liam to stop walking (their hands still intertwined) too. “What’s the matter?”

Giggling’s never been something Zayn’s done, at least not around Liam, but that sound, it rung in Liam’s hear, so vibrant and _adorable_ , and then Zayn leaned forward and pressed his lips against Liam’s.

And Liam’s never known what that’s been like, but stars. Nothing but them across his back of his eyelids.

The flickering thought of _I don’t know if I’m doing this right_ and _Zayn’ll think I’m terrible_ slipped from his consciousness, and Liam just let it happen, pulled Zayn closer to his body - the both of them still soaked, their clothes squishy from the rain - and tried his best to make this moment the very greatest

It had been for Liam the second they pulled away from one another; and despite the rain still falling down around them, he could make out the glossiness of elation in Zayn’s eyes.

 

-

 

College is different, bigger, weirder, and Liam sees the diversity with his own eyes.

Turns out that things can change quickly in the span of three months, like Louis showing up on his doorstep just days before the start of school, with Zayn quite jealous an hour later when he showed up and Liam was in the same room with another man.

(Not that Liam was doing anything with Louis, and it’s not as if Zayn’s the jealous kind. But Louis _never_ had boundaries when he was younger, and it seems that hasn’t changed all these years later).

They’d moved together, all under the roof of one house instead of dorms, sharing a living space that worked between the three of them. Rent and utilities get paid, less rules with no parents around. And then there’s Zayn’s ability to kiss Liam anywhere, anytime, any place he sees fit, and it’s good.

It’s fantastic.

(At least it is for awhile now, but there’s only so much Liam can do to put off sex. Zayn’s been incredibly respectful, but Liam hasn’t even let Zayn _touch_ him, and that’s beginning to draw a line down the middle.

Zayn won’t say it out loud, and Liam knows that the other lad feels selfish when Liam gets him off, never the other way around.

Liam always tells him _another time_ , but that never happens, and to put it simply… Liam’s not only running out of options, he’s counting down the days where he doesn’t have to talk with Zayn about what’s going on.

After all, they can’t have a relationship if they’re not honest with one another. So far, that’s been Liam’s mistake).

 

-

 

“Dunno how weird this might be to ask you,” Liam hears Zayn ask.

He’d come home from class, and apparently no one heard him walk through the door because he’s currently in his room listening to a conversation he knows he shouldn’t be.

“Off you go then,” Louis shoots back.

“Harry and you have sex often, right?”

Louis suddenly cackles at the question, and through it, he says, “You wanting to watch, Malik?”

There’s a _whoosh_ , then an _oof_. “Don’t be a jackass.”

“You hit me with a pillow!” Louis shrieks.

This time, Zayn snickers. “Serves you right.”

“Alright, okay,” Louis relents. “To answer your question, often enough.”

Liam imagines Zayn licking the front of his teeth and sitting down next to Louis. He’s happy that the two of them have become friends, wasn’t sure how the two of them together would work out considering their first meeting hadn’t been on good terms.

“Liam’s holding back,” Zayn murmurs, and Liam almost doesn’t hear it.

He does, however, suck in a breath because he did know where this conversation might’ve been heading; just hearing Zayn say it, confirm it, is something else entirely.

“And I’m not trying to push him, don’t get me wrong. If time’s what he needs, that’s okay.”

“I’m sensing there’s a but in here somewhere,” Louis chimes in.

Zayn probably nods and continues. “But I get the feeling that it’s more than that. Like, what if it’s _me_?”

Louis obviously snorts at that comment, and Liam would too if he were there. “It’s not you,” he says. “That boy is head over heels in love with you, and if you don’t see it, then shit, you are in denial.”

This is the part where Liam expects a little bit of a protest on Zayn’s part. Liam can’t really say that Louis is wrong, and granted it’s been nearly a year since Zayn and Liam first met, but to tack on something like love in a time like this? That could very well do a lot of damage. Who falls in love that quickly?

“Pretty sure I feel the same way, mate,” Zayn says. And there’s a longer pause between this and the next moment Louis speaks.

A lot of it might have to do with the fact that regardless of them trying to keep it a light conversation, there’s no way around it falling down into something deep.

“Then maybe that’s where you need to start.” There’s some shuffling, and then Louis speaks again. “Only way you’re gonna figure it out is if you talk to him.”

“Just wanna make him happy, Louis. Sometimes he doesn’t seem happy and that hurts.”

That’s not the last thing that’s said, but it’s the last thing Liam hears because he sneaks out of the house at that point, hopes that maybe he can give them another ten minutes before trailing back inside and announcing his presence.

Liam feels overwhelmed, a little shaken because despite his growing relationship with Zayn, it’s been hindered on account of himself and his issues. And he knew that at some point it’d come to a head, that Liam couldn’t keep it all to himself.

The fact of the matter is that he doesn’t know how to approach Zayn. Trusting him is easy, but sharing a part of Liam he’s kept to himself for so long- Liam can’t even begin to see the end result.

The thing is, there’s never been a reason to not trust Zayn. He’s been there for Liam, just as Liam’s been there for him, and while he doesn’t feel completely ready, now might be the time he fixes this.

After all, Liam’s number one goal in life (well, aside from personal goals like the future of his career and the like), is to make sure Zayn is happy. It’s probably inevitable that he’ll be the cause of some pain - much worse than what they’re facing now - but Liam would do anything to keep that smile on Zayn’s face.

Liam making Zayn happy, makes him happy. It’s okay that his well being doesn’t always come first.

 

-

 

The first thing Liam had noticed about Louis when he’d shown up at Liam’s house, had been the fact that he wasn’t the same scrawny kid he once knew. Growing up had done Louis a bit of good, made him cheekier but wiser, and Liam took comfort in that right away.

Still does, in fact.

But the thing that makes Liam appreciate him the most is how unapologetic he is for being himself. Louis smiles and goes on with his day; he makes mistakes and laughs at himself.

And most important of all, Liam notices that Louis carries a little more weight on his body. His build is different than Zayn’s, different than Harry’s too, and of course Liam isn’t trying to say anything other than the fact that it makes _him_ feel comfortable. Louis’ by no means fat; not anywhere near it, but the fact that he’s a different size slightly puts things into perspective for Liam.

As far as Liam can tell, Louis is as successful as someone can be at this age, going to college, making good marks, having a life that exists outside of school. He’s functional and satisfied with life, and that makes Liam want it all too. He wants to succeed, to be known for all the good he’s able to accomplish rather than the size of his waist.

Maybe it’s hypocritical for Liam to think such things about Louis; after all, his size is the last thing he wants people to notice, but whenever he’s around a crowd of people, it’s easier to take comfort when there are others around that look like him, that look similar to him, that remind him of himself.

Louis is not fat, not like Liam, but he does showcases _difference_. That gives Liam hope.

 

-

 

He remembers the day someone told him to, “Stop acting skinny.”

Liam had paused, wondered what the hell that was supposed to mean. No one gave him an answer, just snickered and moved on. But it did strike a chord with him for the rest of the day and for the past several years.

_Stop acting skinny._

As if he didn’t already know that the circumference of his waist, or that the size of his limbs made him wider, more susceptible to words like knives being thrown straight at him, that he took up extra space that he apparently wasn’t allowed to.

 _Stop acting skinny_.

Or maybe it was the clothes he wore; probably too tight, too small, and that’s why he always bought them larger than needed from there on out. They cover and conceal, make him larger than life, yet still remind people that he occupies more than his fair share.

 _Stop acting skinny_.

Did it mean to quit sucking in his gut, or sit just right so that it at least _appeared_ like he was smaller?

It’s been a little less than a decade since he first heard those words, and sometimes Liam repeats them to himself. Because even if they _still_ don’t make any sense, he really should just _stop acting skinny_.

 

-

 

It’s an evening where Liam and Zayn are home alone, with Zayn just stepping out of the shower in a shirt and some sweatpants, that Liam decides takes some initiative.

He does it without thinking, knowing that he'll completely back out if he were to give himself time to run this over. There's no plan, no grand speech here. He's just going to talk and see where that leads him.

After all, it’s only fair, and Liam’s been carrying around this burden since-

“Nine,” Liam says. “I think I was like, nine or something when I knew something was different about me.”

Zayn finishes running the towel over his head, ridding of any excess water so it won’t further wet his shirt.

“No one had to tell me,” he continues. “I just knew.”

He sits on Zayn’s bed (they have their own rooms, but it’s more often than not they share the same sleeping space anyway), picks at the comforter and avoids the gaze of his boyfriend.

“Liam-”

But he shakes his head and waits until Zayn gets closer to the bed before he begins again. “I noticed a pattern with all the kids in my class, same as I did for everyone else in the school. The hallways were always crowded, and sometimes we’d get different years going down the same hall. There was always a mixture.”

When Zayn sits down, Liam knows he doesn’t make a huge dent in the bed, and he almost gets sidetracked, the comparison of his own body and it’s size versus Zayn’s-

“And it was consistent,” Liam says. “No matter the race, or gender, there was one single common occurrence amongst them all.”

Zayn’s quiet, but Liam still hears him whisper, “What was that?”

“Their-” and Liam feels his lips quiver, the thickness in his throat from it closing up on him, and that burn- that _goddamn_ burn in his eyes. He releases a shaky breath, a laughter amongst it while giving a desolate smile.

Zayn’s hand is on Liam’s shoulder; he feels it there as he bites his lip. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Liam.”

But he doesn’t listen. Liam’s given Zayn so many chances to leave him, a way out, and now that Zayn is giving him the same, it’d be unfair to bail now. No matter how much his heart stutters in his chest, and his stomach feels fluttery, he grits his teeth and finds the courage to finally say it. “Size,” he says, arm curling around his stomach as if that might shield him from his emotional state. “Their clothes were smaller; they fit in the desks without any of their body spilling over the seat.”

The touch on Liam’s shoulder falls away, but it’s quickly relocated to his hand where Zayn intertwines their fingers together and squeezes. The pad of Zayn’s thumb rubs over the back of Liam’s hand before he brings it up and presses a kiss to the center of it. “Do you think I don’t know what you look like?” Zayn whispers, his mouth still pressed up against Liam.

Liam swallows, knowing that it’s a legitimate question and not something accusatory. “Having clothes on is one thing, Zayn. You can’t go back when they come off,” he explains. “You can still think I’m nice or whatever, but you _can’t_ go back; do you understand that?”

“You think I won’t like you anymore,” Zayn suggests.

Another humorous laugh escapes Liam, still can’t bring himself to look at Zayn. “Of course.” His eyes are probably red-rimmed, and they still burn with unshed tears, and Liam doesn’t know if they’ll fall. The idea of being weak because of them is such an afterthought. There’s not much lower he can get given what he’s already dealt with. “It’s one of my biggest fears,” he says softly.

And the breath that is sucked in is not from Liam, but from Zayn. Liam feels it against his skin, sends a shiver down his arm, and then Zayn’s moving. He’s scrambling to get closer to Liam, knocking their knees together until he’s practically in Liam’s lap, clawing at the collar of his shirt and looking very serious. “‘m not going anywhere.” He shakes his head, falling forward until his cheek is pressed against Liam's shoulder. He can feel Zayn nuzzling into his neck, and his lips against his skin again. “They’d have to drag me to hell first.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Liam sniffs. He curves his arm around Zayn's back, gripping his waist, and his free hand is tracing the ink on Zayn’s arm.

Zayn tries to shove him, pushes his hand against Liam’s chest, but they don’t budge because Zayn isn’t really meaning to follow through with the motion. “Am not,” he argues. “You’re kinda stuck with me, babe.”

There’s a weight that’s been lifted off of Liam’s shoulders. Some of it still sits there because this is only one part of the solution. Talking about this is one thing, but Liam knows he’s still going to have issues that Zayn can’t fix. Liam understands this, but he also knows that if Zayn- if precious, beautiful, _wonderful_ Zayn thinks he’s worth his time, then maybe, just maybe, that actually means something.

Maybe Liam’s not so worthless, not as replaceable as others made him out to be.

“Sometimes they’d tell me that I was lucky,” Liam says, breaking the silence with a murmur. “That I was _very_ lucky that you stayed with me.”

“No,” Zayn shakes his head, interrupting Liam. “No; see, _they’re_ the unfortunate ones, Liam. They don’t get a boyfriend who’s humble and kind, and they _don’t_ get your attention. Only I do, and I like that.” The boy in Liam’s arms sounds smug. “You’re the kindest human being I’ve ever met, and I don’t know how _I_ got so lucky.”

There are a million and one statements Liam could say that would refute Zayn’s words. He could argue about this all day long, bring up every nasty thing he's ever been told and leave Zayn speechless and at a loss for words.

So, Liam doesn’t. He leaves it where it’s at because as fragile as Liam is at the moment, it seems Zayn is in the same state. The way he clings to Liam tightly, and whispers how perfect Liam is against his skin, brings the tears to the edge.

The only way to combat them is to lean down and press a kiss against Zayn’s forehead as lovingly as can be.

It’s a lot easier for Liam to breath now, knowing that Zayn has silently offered all the love Liam will ever need to make it through this.

 

-

 

There were rumors that the only reason Zayn hung around Liam so long was because he was good in bed. It contradicted the rumors that he was a virgin, but it didn’t matter because to them, the only place Liam had was to please.

Apparently desperation makes giving head ten times better.

 

-

 

The first time Zayn touches Liam, he keeps most of his clothes on.

Liam offered to remove more, but apparently Zayn had read the lie in his eyes and told Liam they weren’t going to push this.

“Time,” Zayn had said. “We’ve got plenty of it.”

Even still, that doesn’t change the fact that Zayn’s in between Liam’s thighs, eyebrow cocked while he slips Liam’s boxers down enough so that his dick is free.

Liam swallows, is very tempted to pull down his shirt just in case Zayn finds something he doesn’t like. But then there’s a touch, so subtle and soft, it has Liam biting his lip, and Zayn smirking and asking, “Are you ready, babe?”

He looks like cat, feisty, and sharp, and grinning the moment Liam nods. “Y-yeah.”

Zayn first takes Liam in his hand, wraps a solid palm around the length and squeezes so gently before stroking up and down. It’s nothing fast, just in case Liam changes his mind. And when there are no protests, Zayn figures he’s in the clear.

Leaning down, he presses a kiss to the tip of Liam’s cock. He’s uncut, so Zayn’s gotta pull back the foreskin before he lets his tongue lick out of his mouth and down the slit. When he’s done licking the pre-cum away, he goes further, down the member, wetting it with his spit and feeling the warmth radiating from Liam’s body.

By now, Liam’s only got a fist curled into the sheets, careful not to move too much. He can’t really take his eyes off Zayn, doesn’t really want to anyway.

There’s a load of worries in his head, lots of voices and faces from people in the past that tell him that this isn’t okay, that he shouldn’t be able to feel this good. But Liam’s toes curl when Zayn finally goes down on him, takes all of Liam and holds the rest of him he can’t fit into his mouth with his fist. Zayn’s cheeks hollow and suck; he moves up and down with caution, eyes flickering up to Liam every so often like he’s looking for approval.

And Liam wants to give it, he does, but his moans are caught in his throat. There are negative words that stop him from doing so.

Which is probably why Zayn pulls off.

Liam feels the apology there, just on the tip of his tongue, but then Zayn’s crawling up the bed, over Liam just to press a kiss to his mouth. Liam doesn’t protest, not even with the fact that he can taste himself on his boyfriend’s tongue.

“C’mon, Liam,” Zayn urges when he pulls back. His hand snakes down between their bodies, and he grips Liam again. “Can you say my name?”

There might be only a second or two of hesitation, but then Liam says it, albeit without any confidence. Liam’s expecting a disappointed look, but Zayn just works him a little faster, watches the way Liam’s eyes get a little glossy before he repeats his question with the added, “Like you mean it though, Liam. Wanna hear you _moan_ it. Can you do that for me, babe?”

Zayn’s consistent with the flicking of his wrist, and with the way Zayn looks and feels over him, Liam knows he’s not gonna last long. His cheeks are flushed, and his thoughts have gone a little fuzzy, but that’s okay. It’s all okay when Zayn leans down and presses kisses against his jaw and down his neck, sucks at the skin on his collar bone and encourages Liam to be as loud as he wants.

Liam’s hips stutter, breath a little shaky with each and every encouragement that comes from Zayn. The press of Zayn’s thumb into the slit, and the smearing of pre-cum do more for Liam than he thought, and all it takes is a particular flick of Zayn’s wrist and the fact that he’s just bit down on the corner of Liam’s bottom lip, that sends him over the edge, spilling over Zayn’s hand with his whispers of _so good for me, Liam_ and _pretty, so fucking gorgeous, babe_.

By the time Liam’s able to focus again, a lazy smile gracing his features, he offers to return Zayn the favor; it’s only fair. But the other boy shakes his head, cleans himself up by licking the cum off of his hand and part of Liam’s thighs before he settles in next to Liam for the night.

Liam hadn’t ever thought he’d feel this amazing, nearly boneless.

 _Weightless_.

Zayn’s the first to fall asleep, head resting in the crook of Liam’s arm. And despite the fact that Liam was the one just pleasured, it’s possibly the first time Liam’s every felt appreciated.

He’s going to try his hardest not to take that for granted.

 

-

 

There are so many other worries, but Zayn helps him through. He doesn't laugh when Liam walks out if the bathroom with no shirt on after a shower. And Zayn makes sure that Liam knows he loves him lots.

And even when Liam expresses his fear of hurting Zayn when they're in bed, Zayn proves him wrong when Liam's pounding into him, where Zayn's head is lolled to the side and whiny with need.

Liam gains a confidence with Zayn he figured he'd never have. Sure, Zayn helps Liam, but Liam takes it and runs with it.

They all notice a difference. Louis' even said so.

He's still got his bad days, of course. But Liam has love, love from his friends and his family.

And Zayn.

That thought, that reality still feels like a dream.

(It's not).

 

-

 

Sometimes when they’re out, Liam can feel people look at him and Zayn. They walk hand in hand most of the time, and while it’s easy to come to the conclusion that people stare because they’re two men, Liam knows. He knows exactly what they’re thinking.

Those people that walk by them when they’re around town, they look at Liam, then at Zayn, and then right back at Liam. Wheels turn in their head, possibly even short circuits, and they ask themselves _how?_

It takes every inch of Liam’s will not to look to the ground, to remove his hand from Zayn’s because he doesn’t want them looking at his boyfriend in wonder, in awe, like it takes guts to date someone who’s _f-a-t_.

But Liam has no room for apologies. They want to slip off his tongue less frequently, and the warmth of Zayn’s hand pulling at his reminds him, snaps him back to _his_ reality.

It’s kind of like slow motion in Liam’s eyes, how Zayn knows just when to turn and glance at Liam, give him his brightest smile as reassurance. And then suddenly, none of it matters. There’s no one else around them because Liam only has eyes for Zayn, and a grin adorns his face.

(“Like the sun,” Zayn had told him once. “Full of everything good in the world, Liam. I _love_ you, and I love it when you smile.”)

Only this time around (and every moment in their future), Zayn’s staring right back with just as much affection as Liam had always felt Zayn deserved.

It’s a two way street now. They share something people only hope they can be lucky enough to find.

Those people, the ones from the past and the ones who’ll surely be in Liam’s future, eventually fade away and become a distant thought.

Because Zayn chose Liam.

And that’s it.

That’s all that needs to be said.


End file.
